War Bonds
by GX75-B
Summary: A Warhawk fan fiction. In the middle of a skirmish, it dawns on an Eucadian solider that the war has gone on long enough. Pairing up with an unlikely ally, a Chernovian recruit, he sets forth to end it all. Will he come through?


Vernon slid into place behind a large boulder as a hail of lead flew over him. He was in the center of a war that, in his opinion, need not fighting. Innocent lives were being lost without a purpose. Vernon couldn't think of what would happen if this fight continued. He wasn't worried about _his_ army; he was worried about the _enemy's_ army.

It seemed that every month, the enemy soldiers became younger and younger, and less skilled in combat. July, they were 31. August, they were 30. September, they were 29; all the way to now, late June, with enemy recruits averaging 19 years of age. They were being sent on suicide missions left and right, and were easily gunned down. A group carrying over 345 strong, including artillery, could be decimated in 10 minuets or less.

_When?_ Vernon thought as a shell exploded in the distance, _When did this all begin? When will it end? We used to fight together, just Euca-_

His thought was interrupted as a frightened recruit, no younger than 18, scrambled behind the boulder. His insignia clearly stated that he was enemy, but Vernon took no notice of the free kill, and only grunted. The young man glanced at the 42 year old before starting and doing a double take. Once he had identified Vernon as the enemy, he immediately began to fumble with his pistol.

"Forget it, kid," Vernon said, in a glowering tone of voice, "You don't have the guts to shoot me."

"Yes I-I do!" the young solider stammered while raising his pistol up. He pulled the trigger, but the gun only clicked.

Vernon sized this opportunity and swatted the gun away from the kid.

"Seems like they don't teach you how to re-load your guns," He laughed, "How'd you end up fighting anyways?"

The boy was bewildered at this sudden openness from the enemy, seeing as his generals always said they would "gun you down without even thinking about it". Suspicious of the man's intentions, he kept an eye on Vernon's holster. Vernon took notice this time.

"Don't worry, I'm not gong to shoot you. You've got a life ahead of you. You're too young for this kind of thing."

"You're not like the others, are you?" the boy responded, surprised that he would talk to a Eucadian soldier.

"Well, I can't say that I'm a carbon copy, but I'm not the black sheep either." As he said this, Vernon pulled down on his jacket collar. The sound of muffled clicking came from within.

"What's that you have in your jacket?"

Vernon didn't want to reply, thinking that the truth would cause the kid to run off to his death.

"It's just my tags," He said, unbuttoning the jacket, "with a few others." When the chain came into view, it was a humbling moment for the boy. For weeks, his commanders had told them that they were steadily winning the war, and here was a single Eucadian solider with over 350 _pairs_ of Chernovian dog tags.

"I've gunned quite a few down, but if you look closer, none of them are recruits."

"Why?"

"Like I said, you recruits have your lives ahead of you. You ha-"

"As if the 30-year-olds are ready to die!" the youth snapped, shocked at Vernon's nonchalant attitude towards killing his comrades.

"I'm not saying that, I'm only saying that youths shouldn't die out here." The boy began to calm himself, "You will probably live on decades past me if not for this damned war."

A small silence developed before the boy spoke again.

"What's your name?"

Vernon smiled. He had won the young recruits trust.

"Vernon," he replied, "What's yours?"

"Jeff Bacot."

"Bacot…" Vernon was deep in thought, "Were you in any way related to Frank Bacot?"

"Yes, he was my father," Jeff replied. His interests peaked at this new topic.

"Like father, like son. I used to fight alongside him during the Tyrant Wars."

Jeff seemed puzzled by this.

"The 'Tyrant Wars'? I've never heard of them."

Vernon knew immediately why Jeff had never heard of the war, and explained.

"The Tyrant Wars happened about ten years ago, back before Eucadia came under attack from Chernovia. The tyrants were a small nomadic group that somehow kept up with war technology. The battles came on and off, as the tyrants would attempt to confuse us, so it was recorded as a series of wars instead of one large war. Your father joined the Chernovian army, and I the Eucadian. We were lucky enough to end up in the same squad." A shell whistled overhead and burst in a cloud of dirt, but Vernon continued, "We used to run crusades left and right, demolishing the tyrant forces battle after battle. The wars reached its apex five years after they began, thanks to your father."

Jeff grew wide-eyed.

"My father ended a war?"

"Did more than that," Vernon said over the repetitive bursts of the flak turrets, "He

created a new country. The defeated tyrants were given plots of land from both the Eucadian and Chernovian governments, thus creating Duranna."

Jeff interrupted with his own question.

"So, if our countries worked together, why are we in this war?"

"Mistakes. Foolish mistakes, kid. Two years after Duranna was founded, a Eucadian missile test went awry. The missile ended up striking a small Chernovian village. The Chernovian leader claimed the missile was purposely fired, and immediately declared war against Eucadia, and we of course fought back."

Jeff sat in silence listening to the history he had never heard. Through his years in the Chernovian Academy, he had been told Chernovia was under attack from Eucadian forces out to destroy their way of life. But now, face to face with a real Eucadian soldier, Jeff felt like he had a part in giving this war steam. He was enthusiastic about joining the effort, and therefore probably made the leaders think they had the countries help.

"What are we going to…"

Vernon's radio crackled and hissed to life.

"What's wrong, Vermin?" Greg, the company comedian teased, "We've got to split! They've called us back!"

Vernon turned to Jeff after yelling back at Greg. He pulled out a 20 oz. bottle of soda.

"Jeff, we need to talk some other time. Take this, put the cap on your chain once you've emptied it, and we should be able to identify each other out in the field."

Jeff just looked at the swirling fizz before asking,

"How will I know if I see you?"

Vernon displayed the tags.

"Only guy on the Eucadian army that keeps tabs of his kills! See you later!"

With this final remark, Vernon charged bluntly through the flurry of blazing lead as if there wasn't even a war. Jeff looked on as Vernon boarded a waiting M-22 APC/SW. He then turned his attention to the bottle of soda sitting in his lap. Jeff twisted the cap violently, causing the pressure to release at once, covering Jeff in a sticky coating. _Great,_ he thought as the soda dripped from every fold on his uniform, _how am I going to explain this?_

* * *

One year passed, with Vernon searching harder than ever for Jeff, and Jeff doing the same for Vernon. Jeff was beginning to lose faith that Vernon wanted to meet with him again when his fire team was sent to protect a vital munitions and ammunition shipment to the front lines. He was preparing for his mission, when his bottle cap came into view of the rest of his fire team, which he had been hiding from them for the whole year.

"Jeff, what the heck do you have that bottle cap for?"

Jeff, sideswiped by the question, quickly tried to make up a heroic explanation for the cap.

"Uh, well, I was running through enemy territory when I found a wounded recruit, he told…"

"Sure Jeff, like _I'm_ going to believe that _you _were in enemy territory. Come on, let's get moving."

The team packed up and met with the driver.

"You four realize what would happen should you fail?"

"You die and we get free ammo and medals?" The group laughed, except for the driver and Jeff.

"It's all about the medals, isn't it?"

This constituted another round of laughter, making Jeff uncomfortable. The convoy then started on their way, pushing Jeff out front to check for enemy forces, not by fear, but by "policy". Luckily, there weren't any Eucadian ambushes waiting. _I would be suicide,_ Jeff thought to himself as he tested the waters at a small valley, _sending a battalion of men over enemy lines for an munitions truck? I would be better to send a sniper._

The next 30 seconds became a blur to Jeff. The driver's window shattered on the truck, just inches from his head. The truck, driverless, slowly coasted up the hill to the right, and rolled onto its side, crushing two members of the team.

"Jeff, get that sniper! I'll call it in! Move, move, move!"

Jeff ran up the hill where the shot came from before hearing the last surviving member of the fire team cry out in anguish as a second shot ripped through his head. Jeff began to panic before he heard the distinctive click of a locking rifle bolt. He looked around and found the lone sniper. Stealthily, he approached the man before attacking. Jeff used the butt of his gun, jabbing him in the side and rolling him onto his back. Jeff was about to stab the sniper when…

"Jeff?"

Jeff was taken aback before he heard the tags.

"Vernon?"

"Jeff! It's been awhile, hasn't it?"


End file.
